Evil dreams, that is. We ate at the Chinese all-you-can-eat place again and, ayup, freakish dreams all night. How about sitting in a castle’s moat that later transpires to be a dry-dock of some kind, in a suit of armour that at the same time is a wetsuit, employed to pick golf balls up out of the moat? Happens to me every day, dunno about you.

Wasn’t the Sumo Feast, though, it was the bloody piped Dido.

Actually the food here is no great shakes, really. That’s a shame because Tampopo that was here before was superb.

Samsi in Manchester. Kirin beer. Sushi. Blogging on my mobile phone. A purring geek. :-) By the way, that wasn’t an attempted Haiku.